


Thinking Ink

by puss_nd_boots



Category: the GazettE
Genre: Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, M/M, tattoo worship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2014-06-15
Packaged: 2018-02-04 17:03:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1786555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puss_nd_boots/pseuds/puss_nd_boots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rumors are swirling that the reason Ruki always covers his arms in public is because he has a secret tattoo. But Ruki’s relationship to ink is a lot deeper and more complex than any of them know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thinking Ink

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Piercings/Tattoos square of my [Season of Kink](http://seasonofkink.dreamwidth.org/) card. (For more on this new fanworks challenge, click that link!)

The rumors about Ruki’s tattoos had been going on for so long that the band hardly paid attention to them anymore.

Nobody could quite figure out when they started – or how. Maybe it was at Tokyo Dome – he’d worn a long-sleeved shirt onstage for the encores. But, wait, hadn’t he been wearing sleeved shirts before then? Yes, he’d had a big flannel shirt for the Dim Scene encores. Wait, when was the exact point he stopped wearing the Black Moral tees at the end of the show again?

When musicians got together and Ruki was in the room, the conversation inevitably turned in that direction. It didn’t matter if they were company-mates or not – in fact, the PSC guys tended to gossip and speculate more than those who spent minimal time with him.

“I’ve heard it’s all over his arm,” Kazuki told the people gathered around his table at the bar around the corner after a PSC meeting. “Shoulder to elbow at least. Maybe lower.”

“Where’d you get that from?” Jin said, arriving back at the table with a fresh drink in hand.

“Staff,” Kazuki said. “They used to work with him.”

“Your source is full of shit,” said Saga, who was sitting opposite Kazuki. “Our wardrobe guy used to be their wardrobe guy. He said there’s just one tattoo, on his bicep – but it’s real Yakuza-looking. A real intricate dragon. That’s why the company doesn’t want it shown.”

“And YOUR informant is even more full of shit than HIS informant,” retorted Keiyuu, who was sitting next to Saga. “We just worked with a guy who was Ruki’s PERSONAL dresser on the Fadeless PV. He said it’s on his forearm, and it’s a bunch of lettering. He couldn’t work out what it said.”

“We’ll ask Ryoga,” Saga said, seeing the other vocalist start to pass by their table. “They’re friends.” He reached out and grabbed the hem of the other man’s shirt, nearly sending Ryoga into a stumble, which would have had unfortunate consequences involving the drink in his hand and the clothing of the table’s occupants.

“What the fuck is this about?” Ryoga said.

“We just want to ask if you know anything about Ruki’s tattoos,” Saga said.

“What, do you think I slept with him?” Ryoga said. “Is THAT rumor going around again?”

“No, we wanted to know if you . . . “ Saga did a double-take. “Wait, what? What rumor?”

Ryoga waved his hand. “Forget it.”

“No, tell us!” Kazuki turned around toward Ryoga. “This is even better than the tattoo stories!”

“There’s nothing to tell,” Ryoga said.

“Then why do people think you slept with him, hmmm?” Keiyuu leaned over the table, eyes reflecting great interest.

“I don’t know!” Ryoga said, starting to look a bit flustered. “Why do people always ask about Ruki’s tattoos?”

“We have evidence for that,” Saga said. “Is there evidence of something between you and him?”

“Forget it!” Ryoga turned away. “I don’t know why people are saying that, and I don’t know anything about Ruki’s tattoos, either!”

The group looked at each other and laughed. They had something new to gossip about now – a lot better than the original rumor.

But that didn’t mean the tattoo speculation was going away. Far from it.

* * *

Aoi unlocked the door to his apartment and walked in, yawning and stretching. Not that he was entirely tired. Oh, no, he still had stamina in him – which was a good thing, because he wasn’t going to be alone tonight. Ruki followed him into the living room, shutting the door.

“Pretty good party,” Aoi said. “Can’t understand why Ryoga looked so flustered, though.”

Ruki sat down on the couch, pulling out a cigarette. “I could live without those fucking things, you know,” he said. “The big-deal parties in bars.”

“Why?” Aoi opened the fridge and rummaged around. He knew well enough to keep a stock of Orangina on hand. He pulled out a beer for himself – he’d had a couple at the party, but one more wouldn’t hurt anything. “Is it because you’re not a drinker?”

“Those things tend to bring out the worst in everyone,” Ruki said, fumbling around for an ashtray. “Far better to just have a few people get together in someone’s house, where nobody feels like they have to grandstand.”

“Or spread rumors?” Aoi poked his head out of the fridge.

Ruki took a deep drag and let it out in a puff. “Fuck – they were talking about THAT again, weren’t they?”

“Don’t they always?” Aoi said, coming into the living room with the two bottles. “Can’t remember a party in the last year or so where they weren’t.”

“Well, they need to let it go.” Ruki now had a cigarette in one hand and an Orangina in the other. He was being kept afloat by nicotine and vitamin C. Well, however much actual vitamin C was in Orangina, anyway.

“You don’t like being a man of mystery?” Aoi said, teasingly. “Hell, I’d like being the center of attention like that.”

“It’s not like I’m the only guy in the world who wears sleeves on his arms during encores,” Ruki said. “Why does all of this talk center on me?”

“Dunno,” Aoi said. “Maybe it’s because you design T-shirts, and then don’t wear them?”

“I have you guys to be my models, you know,” Ruki said.

“You could just tell people the truth,” Aoi said.

Ruki was silent, looking away. Fuck, Aoi WOULD have to say that.

“Hello?” Aoi said, waving a hand in front of Ruki’s face. “Earth to Ruki!”

“I heard you,” Ruki said.

“But you didn’t answer,” Aoi replied.

“Maybe I don’t think I have to,” Ruki said.

“What’s the worst that could happen if you told the truth?” Aoi said. “Just get out there and say, ‘I hate the way my arms look in photos. I always have.’ Simple as that. Then people will stop looking for things that aren’t there.”

“Oh, yeah, right, just have a press conference to admit that,” Ruki said.

“Well, that would kinda be overkill,” said Aoi. “But you could be a little more open.”

“Why?” said Ruki. “It’s really nobody’s business.”

Aoi paued. “You think that having everyone assume you have a tattoo makes you look cooler than admitting you’re not crazy about part of your body – right?”

Ruki looked away again. “I never said that.”

“But you were thinking it,” Aoi said.

“Hmph,” Ruki said, looking away again.

“And if everyone assumes you have a tattoo,” Aoi continued, “then that’s going to distract them from the truth on top of the other truth, which is . . .”

“Don’t you dare fucking say it,” Ruki snapped, abruptly turning toward Aoi.

“That you love tattoos, but you’re afraid of the pain of getting one.”

Ruki turned away from him again, silent.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Aoi said. “It’s not for everyone. I mean, I was pretty drunk while most of mine was being done.”

“Why does that not surprise me?” said Ruki in an icy tone.

“But you don’t need a tattoo, Ruki. You have style. You have presence. Hell, you can rock some outfits that would look like clown suits on most guys. You can pull off jewelry that would look like trash can lids on anyone else. On you, a tattoo would almost be overkill.”

“Okay, so it would be overkill. But I’m not fucking letting anyone know I’m afraid to get one.”

Aoi laughed. “You don’t want them to know that big, tough Ruki is a wimp?”

“And what’s so funny about that?” Ruki said.

“Well, let’s see. You have no problems with people knowing you have a Chihuahua. Or seeing you openly playing with a stuffed giraffe – in front of cameras. But you don’t want people to know you’re afraid of getting a tattoo?”

“That’s different,” Ruki said.

“Why are you afraid, anyway?” Aoi said. “You’ve had painful things done before.” He lightly tapped Ruki’s overly-pierced ear. “Hell, you even had this done.” He moved his finger to the stretched lobe.

“Piercing pain doesn’t last long,” Ruki said. “You know that. The stretching hurt a bit more, but . . .”

“Not as much as facing multiple needles over and over?” Aoi said.

Ruki sighed. “If you fucking tell anyone about this, I’ll . . .”

“I’m not going to tell anyone,” Aoi said “But maybe . . .you should think about coming clean? Or at least wearing a T-shirt once in awhile around the other guys? You can wear long sleeves on stage if you want. Let the fangirls speculate all the want to. But I’ll tell you that nobody is going to think you’re any less _cool_ without ink. And you know why?”

“I can’t imagine,” Ruki sighed.

“It’s because you’re dating me,” Aoi said. “They know you have good taste.”

“I knew you’d fucking say that,” Ruki mumbled. He didn’t even know how many people knew about their relationship – they kept it on the down-low. (Which allowed the Ryoga rumors to flourish).

“Long as you have me, you don’t need a tattoo of your own,” Aoi said. “Because I’ve got this for both of us.”

He suddenly reached down, grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and yanked it over his head. Tossing the garment on the floor, he turned slowly toward Ruki so the top of his right arm and his shoulder were visible. And there was the big, elegant sunburst pattern covering the flesh, looking at once like a carving from an ancient temple and a very modern design.

Ruki’s eyes lit up as soon as he saw it. He might not be able to get one himself . . . but oh, he appreciated Aoi’s tattoo. More than appreciated it – it seemed to enhance and expand on Aoi’s existing appeal, adding a little danger, a lot of sensuality.

It was a flat-out lust object in itself.

“I see the way you’re looking,” Aoi said, teasingly. “You’re not exactly looking at my tattoo as innocent art appreciation, are you? So, then . . . how would you look if I went in here, and . . .” He headed for the bedroom, glancing teasingly over his shoulder.

Bastard. He was a world-class expert at getting Ruki into bed. Because Ruki fell for his seduction techniques every time. Especially when they involved the tattoo.

By the time he got to the bedroom, Aoi was already naked and lying on the bed on his stomach, the tattoo pointed tantalizingly toward Ruki.

“What are you doing over there with all those clothes on?” he said. “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable over here with me?”

Of course he would. Ruki dropped the garments to the floor one by one – shirt, pants, underwear, even socks. They stayed in a heap for now. They weren’t needed – not when their owner was crossing the room like a streak of lightning , sitting down on the bed and being pulled into a hot, hot kiss.

Now, Ruki was never exactly one to be shy and retiring when it came to lovemaking – as anyone who’d shared his bed could enthusiastically testify. But when it came to Aoi, it was as if someone had lit a fire inside him and turned it up to 11-plus. Maybe it was because every inch of the man seemed to exude sex. Maybe it was the fact that he was Ruki’s equal when it came to passion – the fact that Aoi’s tongue was currently plundering Ruki’s mouth was testimony to that.

And maybe, just maybe, it was Aoi’s tattoo.

Ruki’s fingers were reaching out and lightly stroking it as they kissed. He didn’t need to see it – he remembered exactly where it was. It had been a focus of their lovemaking ever since Aoi got it.

Aoi tipped his head back with a deep sigh, and Ruki began to kiss his way down the other man’s neck, pausing to suck at the flesh, scrape it with his teeth . . . stopping just short of leaving a mark. He didn’t want to leave Aoi with something that had to be removed by the makeup artists.

But then again, he thought, it would look so hot if Aoi did a photo session with no shirt and a very visible hickey on his neck . . . not to mention a very visible tattoo . . .

His kisses were headed in that direction, he knew. Once he reached the base of Aoi’s neck, he was working his way across the shoulder, then down his arm . . .

He reached the inked area, and drew his head back, gazing on it lovingly, almost worshipfully. It was so fucking beautiful, that intricate sunburst design, looking at once like something from the wall of a temple and something that should be in an art gallery. Ultimately, though, it belonged nowhere but where it was – as part of Aoi’s flesh.

Ruki leaned over and brought the very tip of his tongue to Aoi’s skin, starting to trace the outline of it, moving back and forth across the contours of the sunburst. It was like he was trying to experience it little by little, fully assimilate it.

“Oh, yeah, baby,” Aoi murmured. “Keep doing that – you want to, don’t you?”

Ruki raised his head again, rubbing his cheek over the center of the design, back and forth. He turned his head and kissed it, a reverent touch of lips, like a supplicant kissing an icon.

“Fuck,” Ruki murmured, licking at the inked skin, then kissing it again and again, moving his head place to place, wanting to cover as much of it as possible. His cock was hard. Rock-hard. Just from doing this. He hadn’t even touched Aoi’s cock or nipples or ass yet.

“You’re so into this,” Aoi murmured, running his fingers over Ruki’s hair. “Do you know how hot this is? Watching you get off on my tattoo? You’re so goddamn sexy like this . . .”

Ruki felt the hand of Aoi’s other arm brushing over him, across his back, coming to rest on his ass. He squeezed a little, massaging it, making Ruki shudder.

“I know what to do,” Aoi said. “Let me up for a second.”

Ruki reluctantly rolled away from him, taking a deep breath and turning over on his back. Fuck, he was covered with sweat. His heart was pounding. You would have thought Aoi had been sucking his cock until he was ready to scream.

Aoi went into his bureau drawer, pulling out a tube of lubricant. He squeezed it on his fingers. “All right,” he said. “Lie down like you were, and . . .”

Ruki stretched out like he had been before, lying atop Aoi, face level with his tattoo. He began to kiss it again, but this time, Ruki slid a hand across Aoi’s chest, finding a nipple. He began to caress it, with almost the same reverence he was showing to the ink, brushing across the hard nub in slow circles.

And as he did that, Aoi started to push a finger into his lover, gently opening him up, moving it in and out and around.

“Fuck yourself on this,” he murmured. “Put all the passion you’re feeling into it. Make yourself feel good, because I’m going to make you feel even better.”

Ruki nearly growled as his hips pushed down, the finger moving even further inside him. Oh, it felt good, all right. Aoi knew just how to touch him from within, where to find the most sensitive spots . . .

He started to pump, gently, as his thumb and forefinger encircled Aoi’s nipple, as his tongue swirled across an intricate spiral of ink . . . and then Aoi pushed a second finger in, opening him more, making Ruki grind down on him harder, tingles of pleasure shooting through his body.

“You know what you want,” Aoi murmured, working in the third finger. “Give it to yourself. Get your sweet ass ready for my cock, because I’m going to fuck you so hard . . .”

Ruki groaned, his cheek rubbing against the tattoo again, his hips churning, taking as much of the fingers as he could handle into him, and Aoi was curving them, stroking him, looking for the sweet spot – and Ruki’s groan because a loud cry as he touched it.

Aoi’s fingers slid out, and he handed Ruki the condom and lube. “Get me ready,” he said.

Ruki sat up, reluctantly tearing himself away from the tattoo, moving down until he was level with Aoi’s quite sizeable erection. Now, this was a thing of beauty to compete with what was up above.

He paid it the proper homage, kissing along the shaft, caressing it with the tip of his tongue, then licking slowly from bottom to tip. He ringed the head with more kisses, flicking his tongue out again, brushing back and forth.

“Put it on,” Aoi gasped. “I want my cock in you.”

Ruki opened the condom package and rolled the piece of rubber on, lubing it generously. He lay back, raising his legs, his hips, encouraging Aoi to take him.

Aoi settled between Ruki’s legs, leaning over and kissing his lips. Ruki began to feel the familiar invasion, the pressure, the initial burning pain, the feel of being filled and filled and filled some more . . .

It was delicious. The pain was beginning to fade, and he knew it would be replaced by an equal measure of pleasure – if not more.

Aoi paused, letting their bodies become accustomed to their joining, and Ruki reached up, fingers running over the tattoo again, turning his head so he could see the lovely thing.

He wondered, sometimes, if the reason he felt so powerfully attracted to it was because it was part of Aoi, that it seemed to be a visual representation of his personality – burning and brilliant and showy and bold.

Aoi leaned over to kiss him. “So fucking gorgeous,” he said. “You’re the hottest guy I’ve ever been with, Ruki.” He licked a trail up Ruki’s neck, up to his ear, twining his tongue in an earring and lightly tugging it – which just made Ruki give off another deep shudder.

Then, Aoi was pulling back, and that cock was moving through Ruki, sliding almost all the way out before pushing in again . . . a slow and gentle thrust that began to pick up in speed and intensity, little by little, the two men’s moans starting to get louder, their breathing harder . . .

Ruki raised his hips, parting his legs more, trying to get Aoi deeper inside him, starting to match his thrusts, his head tossing back and forth on the bedding as he murmured his lover’s name and broken, disjointed praises of his beauty and sexual skill . . .

Aoi sped up even more, thrust harder, practically pounding into Ruki, and the sounds of ragged breathing and deep groans filled the room, punctuated with an occasional, “Close, oh, fuck, so close . . .”

Suddenly, Aoi’s hand wrapped around Ruki and started to stroke, and Ruki let out a gasp, then a cry, the pleasure inside him bursting with a intensity that threatened to take the whole room with it. Aoi wasn’t far behind – a few hard thrusts later he was crying out, plunging deep into Ruki one last time as he released himself.

He collapsed atop his lover, and they wrapped their arms around each other, kissing – Ruki’s fingers seeking out the tattoo again.

And in his post-orgasmic bliss, the full truth broke over Ruki. It wasn’t fear keeping him from having a tattoo of his own. It was the fact that tattoos belonged to Aoi. He didn’t want to just possess ink – he wanted to possess the man that went along with it.

It didn’t matter whether or not people thought that he had a tattoo. Eventually, they’d realize that he was with Aoi – and that was worth all the ink in the world.

“Mmmm,” Aoi murmured, pulling Ruki closer. “I have to get us cleaned up, don’t I?”

“Mmmph,” Ruki said. He didn’t really want to talk right now. Not that he was capable of it

“In a moment,” Aoi said. “Didn’t really feel like moving.” He turned his head again. “What’s with the smile? Other than having just had fantastic sex, that is.”

Ruki turned toward him. “I think I’m going to start wearing short-sleeved shirts in front of the guys.”

“Not pretending any more?” Aoi said, yawning and getting off the bed, slowly, to get wet rags.

Ruki looked at the tattoo again, smiling to himself.

“I don’t need to,” he said.

* * *

Things were a bit quieter the next time everyone had a post-meeting get-together. At least, they were quieter on the gossip front.

“He wore a T-shirt,” Kazuki said, rather glumly, glancing across the room at Ruki’s very much unmarked arms. “Guess we were all wrong.”

“Wonder why the sudden change?” Jin said. “Maybe he knew what we were saying about him?”

“Maybe there was a tattoo, and he had it removed,” Keiyuu said. “They can do that, you know. With lasers.”

“Bullshit,” Saga said. “If he had it removed, there’d be at least some sort of mark left behind, right? Or swelling? His arms look completely . . . normal.”

“Well, we didn’t ever really have proof there was a tattoo, right?” Kazuki said.

They were all quiet. They hadn’t needed proof. They’d all believed the rumor, and they damn well knew it.

Ryoga wandered over, looking curious. “What’s going on?” he said.

“Turns out Ruki never had a tattoo,” Keiyuu told him.

“Oh, yeah, I knew that,” Ryoga said – before moving on to another table.

The group all looked at each other. “How did he know before everyone else?” Kazuki said.

“Maybe he saw his arms before we did?” said Jin.

“Well, how the hell did he do that,” Saga said, “unless . . .”

They all looked at each other and smiled. Unless Ruki had a reason to see them . . .

One rumor had died, another lived on. Such was the nature of visual kei gossip.


End file.
